


Keep stimming

by chaoticneurobivergent



Series: Keithtober 2018 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Autistic Keith (Voltron), Autistic Pidge | Katie Holt, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Keith (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticneurobivergent/pseuds/chaoticneurobivergent
Summary: Keith-centric one-shots around autistic traits, can be read independantly.chap 1 - It was a well-known fact that Pidge collected all kind of junk. Most of the team had lost track by now as none was really allowed to - nor wanted to - enter her room which was, for a lack of better wording, a hugeass mess. What the team didn’t know, though, was that Keith also liked collection.chap 2 - If someone asked, Keith could easily name piloting or sword fighting as his talents without it seeming like bragging - it was clear, cold, facts. But talents, as it turned out, weren’t exclusive to what one actively practiced.aka That 'A hears B singing in the bathroom' trope, but without any nonconsensual voyeurism





	1. discoveries with Pidge

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting these super late I know!! they've been on twitter in time, but I hadn't had time to post them on ao3 yet.  
> for **day 12 - discoveries with Pidge**  
>  I re-used the idea of this tweet

It was a well-known fact that Pidge collected all kind of junk. Most of the team had lost track by now as none was really allowed to - nor wanted to - enter her room which was, for a lack of better wording, a hugeass mess. She had kept the fake Paladins she had created when she had been lost, as well as now useless wires and cables she could always need sometimes. And she kept gathering more things, filling every corner of her room. The team knew that. And if they made fun of Pidge about this tendency of her, it was always in goodwill, and they actually all found it pretty endearing.

What the team didn’t know, though, was that Keith also liked collection, and he had been keeping a ridiculous amount of useless stuff in a box under his bed for as long as his friend.

Keith wasn’t embarrassed by it  _per se_. It was just not something he thought relevant to share with everyone - to share with Lance who would make fun of him forever. The things he chose to put aside and carefully stock under his bed were personal, in a way. It was the results of a conscious decision he made at a certain time and sometimes, yes, he wasn’t sure the decision had been the right one; but it was too late to get rid of it, and Keith knew the others wouldn’t understand this.

But Pidge understood completely. Keith didn’t plan to tell her, but few days after he had snapped at her they had found themselves together in the lounge room, alone. And the silence was so heavy and suffocating, and Keith knew Pidge felt the awkwardness between them too, but none of them really knew what to do to fix that. So Keith had blurted “Wanna see my collection?” before he could think more of it. As soon as the word had reached Pidge her eyes had lighten up.

“Really?” she had asked.

“Hm. Yeh?”

To be fair, this conversation was still a disaster, but Pidge’s excitement was so genuine Keith had felt safe enough to smile, too. They had rushed to his room, and he had shown her his box. And she  _loved_  it.

Since then, it became a regular thing. They were rarely on missions together - something about both of them being bad at diplomacy but really good at being disliked by everyone - so after a while, they would meet in Keith’s room and share their discoveries. Pidge would show him new cables or vines and tell him why it was a technology miracle, and all the things she might do with it. Keith would open his box and take each new items out one by one, telling the story of where he found it and why he decided to keep it - usually because it was cute, or funny, or a nice stim toys. It was a peaceful moment which was their own, and Keith soon realized that talking about his treasures wasn’t that irrelevant and was actually pretty nice.

“I almost didn’t keep that tiny strip because that alien kept talking to me everytime I wanted to walk away to get it.” Keith explained to Pidge. He was holding the strip between his fingers, his box carefully stuck between his legs on the floor.

“Ugh.”

“I know! Why couldn’t they just let me be. Hey random stranger, I don’t wanna be part of the group right now I just wanna come and steal some cool metal I saw on your desk.”

“I mean,” started Pidge from in front of him. “Now that you put it that way, maybe I can get why he would prevent you from literally stealing.”

“Is it theft if touching it is one of the most comforting feeling ever?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Keith paused. “Well, too late. They weren’t that nice anyway like-”

Keith stopped himself when the door bursted open, Shiro’s voice warning them of the team enter too late. “Here you are. We were just wondering-”

“Oh my god.”

_Oh my god_ , repeated Keith internally when he heard Lance and noticed the look on his face. Lance walked past Shiro, staring right at the box in front of him, then at the metal Keith was still holding, then straight into Keith’s eyes.

Lance raised a hand to his chest and made sure to use his most dramatic tone to exclaimed “ _Et tu_ , Keith?”

Pidge was biting her lips to not laugh, but she was still overall pissed at being disturbed - Keith was, too; the least they could have done was knock. The rest of the team was speechless, like if Keith and Pidge hanging out alone was already a lot to process, but now they also had to process that Keith actually cared for material possessions besides his blade and his jacket. Lance was still staring, grinning. And well, now the secret was out, there was no point in denying.

Keith shrugged. “Wanna see my collection?”


	2. hidden talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chap 2 - If someone asked, Keith could easily name piloting or sword fighting as his talents without it seeming like bragging - it was clear, cold, facts. But talents, as it turned out, weren’t exclusive to what one actively practiced.  
> aka That 'A hears B singing in the bathroom' trope, but without any nonconsensual voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for **day 25 - hidden talent**  
>  it was super fun to write, I hope you'll enjoy!

Keith wasn’t one to hide when he was good at something. Not when he worked for hours to achieve a result he wasn’t embarrassed of, and then kept pushing his limits - trying more, doing more, being better. So if someone asked, Keith could easily name piloting or sword fighting as his talents without it seeming like bragging - it was clear, cold, facts. But talents, as it turned out, weren’t exclusive to what one actively practiced. They did say ten thousand hours at anything made you an expert, and if Keith followed that quite disputable rule, then he would guessed his talents could also include making decision solely based on a feeling in his guts, being alone, or even stimming.

Keith had tried to keep the stimming low during the first days in the castle. While it was a time where he clearly needed to be able to _let go_ , he unconsciously went back to _keep it down_. Old habits learned during his time at school came back and he mostly played with his knife, picked his fingers, always kept his weighted jacket, and bite his inside cheeks. Silent stim which could easily stayed unnoticed. The most ostentatious stim only went back once he felt comfortable enough, and only when he was alone.

That was the interaction of all those facts that led to no one knowing - and himself not realizing - how good he was at whistling. At least, until months into space, at too early o’ clock.

 

See, showering was a whole thing in itself. It was the tiny steps to enter, to get to the exact same stall than every other times and hope it was free, to turn the dial, and to not be too distracted by the drops falling on his bare skin. In the morning, when Keith just woke up and was slowly processing the world around him, he was only able to manage it with heavy stimming. And one of his main stim, really, was to use the melodious sound of words stuck on repeat in his mind and to sing. Or, when his throat was sore or the quiet too peaceful to be broken so suddenly, he whistled.

It had become so natural he barely thought about it anymore, letting the notes settled all around him, echoing against the tiles and wrapping him up into this calm, easy, routine. Being heard never cross his mind. His ears didn’t even register the door opening, already too focus on the heat, the ceaseless _ssssh_ of the water, his own music, the-

“Wait, who’s doing that?”

Keith jumped and his sounds tuned down immediately.

“No no no, don’t stop!” Lance - he recognized his voice clearly - whined. “It was really good.”

Steps came closer. Keith turned down the water, just slightly so he could hear better. He felt so self-conscious now, but maybe if he didn’t make any more noise Lance would think he dreamt all that and left. Bottles were put on a skin and- yeh. So Lance was definitely not forgetting about this, and definitely coming towards his stall.

“I’m not kidding. What song was it?”

Keith still didn’t reply - didn’t even move as he was holding his breath. So Lance kept rambling.

“It sounded like… Is this an Altean song or something? Because it’s almost like I can _hear_ Coran singing this.”

Keith swallowed. It wasn’t exactly Altean, but he did make this up based on a sentence Coran had said few days ago, and the tone had stayed stuck in his head. It seemed so silly now that he was confronted to this. _Ugh_ , there was no way he could let Lance know it was him. But he could see Lance’s feet coming closer and closer, until he was just in front of the stall’s door. He saw him turned slightly, heard the tiny “oh” of realization that came out of him and- oh _yeh_. Keith had left his clothes outside, his jacket cautiously hung on the coat rack. Lance’s feet turned towards him again.

“I never figured how to whistle. I tried but I barely make a sound, and when I do it’s this high pitch that I can’t work with.” A pause. Keith allowed himself to breathe again, because Lance knew now, anyway, and he shut off the water completely. Lance’s voice was softer when he talked again. “I just find it.. really cool, man.”

“It just takes work, I guess.” Keith finally said. It was awkward, but he was sure Lance was smiling now that he had decided to talk - even if it was to said the most obvious thing in a croaky voice. “But thank you.”

“No problem! Anyway, uh, I’ll let you finish or whatever.” Keith followed his steps when he turned to take his stuff again, until “Oh! And don’t keep that in the shower. Seriously. I’d love to hear more of it, cowboy.”

Keith chuckled, enjoying how the simple sound ringed out and kept him grounded. “Be careful what you wish for, Lance.”


End file.
